


Who Are You, Really?

by russiansimp



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: ? - Freeform, Airbending, Angst, Anonymity, Earthbending, Firebending, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Love/Hate, M/M, Sorta Canon, Still deciding on the rating, Swordfighting, Swordfights, Undercover, Waterbending, aang is kinda stupid, big gay, emotional firebending, rating pending, them homos sure are unaware
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/russiansimp/pseuds/russiansimp
Summary: The Avatar was smart, he really was. Just... not good at using his head. Evading kidnapping is a part of his job, but he manages to be captured quite often. The question is: is he truly just caught unawares, or using it as an excuse to see his favorite masked bandit?
Relationships: Aang/Katara (mentioned), Aang/Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (mentioned)
Comments: 61
Kudos: 561





	1. Good Timing

**Author's Note:**

> Wowowow lemme tell y’all I used to hate Zukaang but y’all talented motherfuckers changed my mind. There is not enough of this god tier rarepare, and not enough blue spirit on this side. I’m kind of using this OTW to push/challenge myself because I never really write fight scenes and tend to rely on dialogue a lot, so having a lot of fights and a character who doesn’t talk should be interesting.

For someone who’s entire life involved evading capture, Aang got kidnapped… a lot. Never by the prince, who he had been playing cat-and-mouse with for years— no, by nobles, mafia leaders, or, like today, two brutes hired by a rich earth kingdom elite. He was damn smart about it, too. Even if the Avatar wasn’t at his most powerful yet, he took every single precaution to keep him powerless.

As he sat tied up in a dank cell, he tried to remember just how he got into this particular situation. The two goons had been posing as in a fight with each other. And, with his keen taste for peace, Aang had gone to break them up.

It blew up in his face.

He knew he’d get out of the mess— he always did, no matter how utterly impossible it seemed. He just needed time to think. And, with the three days he’d been sitting here, he was sure he’d get enough.

But, lucky for him, he wouldn’t have to think much longer. His escape plan was hanging in the rafters, between the hot pipes and their steam. If he weren’t used to it, the Blue Spirit would have been dying of the heat. The porcelain mask he wore shielded his face from the blunt of it, so it wasn’t unbearable.

The assassin had been sitting there for quite a bit of time, now. Sure, it would have been decently easy to remove Aang whole no one was watching, on guard. But, his bloodlust got the better of him: he wanted to see his captors bleed out on his boots. It was rather sadistic, and he knew it, but he didn’t quite care.

As he heard heavy steps approaching the metal door of the cell, he couldn’t help but smile beneath the mask. He found these sorts of fights rather exciting: no bending, just skill. The two men who had abducted the Avatar in the first place stepped in, beginning to speak.

“Mighty Avatar,” one scoffed. “Doesn’t look too _mighty _to me. Looks like a kid in over his head.”__

“What do you want?” Aang sneered, pulling against his restraints despite himself. He knew for a fact he should just stay silent, not implore them the power they felt they had.

“Don’t start getting snappy, twerp,” he replied harshly. “It ain’t your business what we want.”

“But,” the other cut in. “Since we’re feeling nice, maybe we’ll tell ya.” He squat down to Aang’s height, giving him a grin.

That was the moment the Spirit decided he didn’t have enough patience to hear it. He let go of the pipe which he had been hanging, landing between the Avatar and the, quite frankly, disturbingly cocky, not a bit threatening, captors. He rose up, drawing his swords with a rather lackadaisical bow.

He could practically hear Aang grin behind him, listening to the chains as he sat up. “Heck yeah, Blue Spirit time!” He exclaimed. The Spirit looked back at him, giving nothing but a small _tut _. Aang groaned, but shut up nonetheless.__

The man before him shot up, getting into an offensive stance. “Who are you, and how on earth did you get in here?”

As usual, he gave no reply. He merely tapped the sharpened blades of his swords together. Without waiting for the others to agree to the fight, he threw a swing at the guard. It hit a quickly rising tower of rock, breaking through it. It was enough for him to miss, but not enough for him to slow down. He threw dozens of precise strikes, slowly chipping away at their armor and resolve.

Aang almost turned away when blood began to run, but he simply couldn’t. He loved watching the Blue Spirit fight, and it was truly a rare treat. If he didn’t run off into obscurity every single time they met, Aang would have sparred with him any chance he got.

He moved with such a distinct elegance, you’d think he was royalty.

It wasn’t just that, though. It was the acute awareness that he had, that could only be acquired after years and years of training. The control he had of his own body, it was incredible. He didn’t even register he had killed the other two until his bloodied sword came down on the chains holding him to the floor.

“That was awesome!” He exclaimed, scrambling to stand. “Jeez, you really know when to pop in!”

The spirit only gave him a blank stare, he moved to point his sword to the door, ushering Aang out before him. He kept, of course, completely silent as they made their way out of the building.

When they made it out, he saw that telltale sign of the masked bandit disappearing. He nodded to the other, beginning to walk off. Aang grit his teeth, stumbling after him. “Wait—“ he began, grabbing his upper arm. He could feel the Blue Spirit’s muscles freeze up, and for a moment, he had to admire the firmness beneath his hand. “Uh, wait. We’re miles out of the city. We.. could both use some rest. I can, uh, I’ll bend us a little alcove.”

He stopped breathing as the other continued with that blank, cold stare, and let out a gust of wind when he slowly nodded. Aang gave him a huge grin, one that the Spirit had to smile fondly at. The airbender whipped around happily, marching his way to a cliffside. Getting into a proper stance for bending, he pushed through the crumbling dolomite, creating a smooth little cave to act like a shelter.

“I guess there isn’t much to make a fire— unless you want me to go collect wood. If you’re cold, that is,” he rambled, entering the tunnel. The spirit shook his head. He was plenty capable of keeping himself warm, thank you very much.

Keeping his distance, he followed behind Aang, sitting down opposite to him in the cave. He looked down, adjusting his gloves and guards, those which had been moved during the little skirmish. He could feel the Avatar’s eyes boring holes into his side, causing him to glance up. Beneath the porcelain, he cocked a brow; almost as if to say, _’The hell are you staring at?’ ___

“Do you ever take that thing off?” Aang asked, gesturing to his own face in a circular motion. He was answered with a shake of the head, only bringing him to ask more questions. “Really? Not even when you sleep?”

He finally got a different reaction, a shrug punctuated with a tilt of his head. He was wary of sleeping without it, for fear of being ambushed in his sleep. “Yeah?” he asked, pulling his knees to his chest. “You know… you could probably take it off tonight. I won't tell anyone, I promise!” rather than giving a silent motion answer, The Blue Spirit’s sword was pointed to the airbender’s throat.

“Ok, Ok! I get it, won’t bring it up again!” he rushed out, scooting back and away from the other. “Got it.” the sword was slowly lowered, though he didn’t hide it away in its sheath on his back. It stayed before his crossed legs, beveled edge towards Aang. they sat in silence for a while, the Avatar simply examining him.

On first glance, he assumed the Blue Spirit was rather malnourished: bandit, and all. But, the more he looked at him, even here in the dark, he could make out his frame to be much more muscular than he initially assumed it to be. He supposed that made sense, he did move an awful lot, and seemed to be incredibly strong. But, there was something… off. He had the physique of a bender, someone who trained daily, who fought with his element often. The Spirit had never given any indication of being one. After all, he always just fought with his swords. He raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to ask.

“You… you bend, don’t you?” he asked. It seemed to make the other uncomfortable, causing him to visibly tense up as he shook his head. “You are,” Aang continued. “Why don’t you use it in battle? It would make it so much easier.”

The question elicited a quiet chuckle from the other. Aang gave him a wide grin. “Hey, so you can talk!” he exclaimed, listening as the laugh tapered into silence. “You have a nice laugh. You should use it more often.”

The Blue Spirit could feel a tinge of red spread across his cheek, heating up his already warm skin below his mask. He waved it off, turning away. He had nothing to laugh about. He didn't often have a reason to even smile. Depressing, cliché, but true. A few other questions were thrown his way, but he ignored every single one.

When Aang realized he wasn’t getting any answers, despite his disappointment, he laid down to sleep. He faced the wall, his back to the other, finally giving him an opportunity to do what had been asked of him earlier: remove his mask.


	2. All in the Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow me? Deviating from canon? Whacky

It had become something of a routine for the two, whenever they ran into each other, to find shelter and spend the night. Sometimes they sparred, occasionally Aang told jokes to hear the other laugh again. Before them, tonight, a crackling fire roared, despite its lack of fuel. Aang had been sleeping for a few hours, and beside him, sat the Blue Spirit.

Well, not explicitly. His mask was discarded at his feet, the grinning face staring back up at him. The flames before him danced in his eyes, and the expression of his face was unreadable.

Zuko was never particularly happy on these nights. They left him feeling guilty for not just snatching Aang from where he slept, taking him home to his father. But the stronger part of him simply couldn’t do it. It felt unfair, like he was playing dirty. He knew he had gained the Avatar’s trust, at least, like this. And…

He liked it, for some godforsaken reason. Spirits know he shouldn’t. He was gonna kill this kid, eventually. But, on the nights he’s fallen asleep on his lap, the hours telling bad jokes just to get the tiniest bit of a rouse out of him, the times Aang would convince him to take off his gloves just to look at his hands. He’d guessed earthbender, from the shape of his fingers. And Zuko had laughed, pulling his hand away and covering it back up.

“Does that mean I’m right?” He had asked, clasping his hands together. He hadn’t given him an answer, then, not a nod, not a thing.

Zuko thought it was all rather endearing, and he hated that he did. A brief thought that often hit him, was that, if he weren’t the Avatar, and he weren’t the exile he was, they could have been good friends. Perhaps, in another life.

But now, with the Avatar sleeping peacefully in his lap, he couldn’t help but think that they could be friends in this life.

He shook his head quickly, trying to snap himself out of it. The quick motions caused Aang to stir beginning to open his eyes. Zuko quickly covered them with his bare hand. The Avatar groaned, pushing him away. He kept his hand clamped there, and for the first time, the Blue Spirit spoke.

“I don’t have my mask,” he rasped, holding him still. He felt Aang relax, sighing softly.

“Kay…” he sighed, closing his eyes again. Zuko loosened his grip, but kept his hand there. “You got a nice voice…”

He let out a sigh of relief when he didn’t mention any resemblance to someone else he might know. He hummed a bit, sighing as he fumbled around to tie the mask back on. He removed his hand from over the other’s eyes, letting him open them.

“You’re really warm,” he dragged, sleep heavy in his voice. Zuko smiled a bit, shrugging some. Aang turned over in his lap, facing his abdomen. He clung to the sleek, tight clothing Zuko wore, burying his fingers in the soft wool. Soon enough, he was asleep again, as if nothing had happened.

☄

The avatar woke without the comfortable heat of the Blue Spirit beneath him. The fire was still smoking, the ash and charcoal glowing weakly in the wake of Zuko’s absence keeping it aflame. He pushed himself up, looking around. There were a few tracks in the dust giving an indication he left towards the city, but they disappeared after a few meters.

Aang sighed softly, folding his legs beneath him to look down at his hands. He hated that he always did that. It wasn’t even that he left—no, he expected that. It was that he didn’t bother waking Aang, maybe get a goodbye, _something _besides just disappearing without a word.__

He only vaguely remembered waking the night before, but he remembered the Blue Spirit’s voice clear as day. It had been gravelly from a lack of use, yet, there was some familiarity in it. He thought that, perhaps, he’d met him in passing in the city. He wondered if the Blue Spirit had a day job, or if he made his living off of looting bodies and corporations.

Ba Sing Se was strict about work, he knew that. And, if he were honest, the Blue Spirit didn’t really strike him as one who would pass getting a work permit. Although, he wouldn’t be surprised if he could forge one. Or maybe, he fought in the upper ring for the entertainment of the rich.

The longer he sat there, just thinking, the more curious he got. He conjured up several ideas of who he was behind that mask, but knew none of them were likely. He wondered if now that he’d spoken once, maybe he’d do it again. Tell him something, give him anything to make him less distant.

So, the next time they were leaning up against ancient bamboo, watching a fire, he tried.

“You know, I really wish you’d talk more. It’s not like I could pin you off a voice. Unless I know you, I guess. Do I know you?” He asked. Beneath his mask, Zuko looked away. _if only he knew. _“You’ve got a nice voice, you know that? I can tell you don’t talk a lot, even without the mask. I do. I talk a lot. Well, you can tell, I guess. But it seems like I talk a lot more when I’m the only one talking, right?” The rambling earner a little laugh from the other, the fire seeming to brighten with the melodic noise.__

“You can give me short answers. I don’t care, but I do wanna know more about you. I won’t tell anything, I promise.”

Zuko was quiet for y’all what seemed like forever, gritting his teeth. How often did he actually speak to Aang in a normal voice? He was always angry, yelling. Would it really be so damaging to answer?

“You wouldn’t like what you hear,” was all he said, his hoarse voice barely louder than the wind whipping through the bamboo. Aang gave him a deep frown, shaking his head.

“I doubt I would! I’ve met some really bad people—“

“I’m worse.” And that was that. It was definitive. There was a knowing look, some glint that made it through the eyes of his mask. That’s when it clicked, while he was staring at those amber eyes.

“...You’re fire nation, aren’t you?” He asked reverently. To Zuko’s surprise, there wasn’t a note of disgust in the Avatar’s voice. He looked away, down to the side. “Hey,” he prodded softly. “I know not all of you guys are bad.”

“I am.”

“Dude, you’re the blue spirit. Don’t you hunt the fire nation? And kill them?” Zuko shrugged. They sat in some silence, before Aang kept going. “That’s how you keep the fire warm until morning, huh? Pretty cool, if you ask me. I’m really excited to learn firebending. It looks so fun.”

“It isn’t.”

Well, this all got rather depressing rather quickly. He shouldn’t have said anything. But… he got what he wanted. He learned something about him. He could start to paint a picture of who the Blue Spirit was, outside of this.

And, he had to admire it some. To be a firebender in Ba Sing Se was extremely dangerous. He had gotten his fair share of it, even being the Avatar, who was destined to bring an end to the Fire Nation’s oppressive reign.

“I don’t think you’re bad.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are my life blood yall


	3. Go Home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was mostly a plot advancing filler chapter, i promise shit gets better soon

Aang noticed smaller things now, while he was with the Blue Spirit. The roaring warmth of his skin, the steam that escaped from the sides of his mask whenever he exhaled. He hadn’t pinpointed where he knew his voice from, not yet. But he heard it more often, as the bandit became more comfortable being himself around Aang.

But, Zuko was very careful to keep the things Aang knew about him minuscule. Or, he thought he was being careful. He probably spilled a little more than he had intended, but there genuinely seemed to be no suspicion of his identity beneath the porcelain mask. So he wasn’t worried. Well, not as worried as he should be, he supposed.

If he was as worried as he should be, he wouldn’t be sitting here, with Aang on his shoulder, his heart beating absurdly fast. Conversely, he wouldn’t even be here. He would be home, sitting next to his father, and Aang would be dead.

That concept was a lot more disturbing these days, and got him feeling like a terrible person for even thinking of it. It brought about some out of control licks of flame, which was, quite frankly, embarrassing. Separating emotions from bending was one of the first things a firebender learned. Zuko’d never been particularly good at it. He bent with his anger, with his passion. It wasn’t calculated, it was instinctual, and it was worse if he wasn’t agitated.

Iroh had always tried to help him out of that, get him to meditate some, anything to help control it. Breathing worked the best, but it was still… there.

Aang tended to get unnaturally giddy when he saw those infernal serpents escape his fingers, asking him to do something for real. And Zuko would respond the same way, every single time. “You don’t want to see it.”

The Avatar truly didn’t heed warnings like that. He probed awfully deep into Zuko’s soul, and whenever he’d tell him he’d regret it, his questions only got more perfervid. It would get to a point where he would simply stop talking. Consequently, Aang would shut up, knowing he wasn’t getting any further that night.

Now, Aang has Zuko’s hand in his own, tracing the lines of his palms, the shapes of his fingers. Though he seemed to always wear gloves, the Blue Spirit’s hands were calloused and scarred, marred undoubtedly from his own flames. It brought back the image of his voice, hollow through the mask, telling him that he didn’t want to learn to bend fire. Not that he would ever listen.

He pressed his thumbs gently into a soft area of Zuko’s palm, causing his hand to spasm. The prince yelped, pulling back quickly. “What was that for?” He asked, shaking his hand out. Aang only gave him an innocent giggle, shaking his head.

“It’s just a pressure point, silly. Supposed to relieve tension.” Aang’s nimble fingers travelled up his forearm to his shoulder, tight and squared. Was it stress?

Aang supposed it _would _be awfully stressful, to have a secret identity. Any wrong move, and it was over.__

He hit another two pressure points, causing the Prince to melt beneath his hands. Aang chuckled, sitting back down. “See? All better.” he gently rubbed Zuko’s shoulder where he had hit, soothing the shock he had caused. He trailed back down to hold his hand, watching a smoky huff come from beneath the mask.

He went back to simply tracing the marks, darkened burn scars, calluses, and wrinkles. He ran his thumb over each patch of hardened skin, amazed at how different his hands felt from his own. Aang’s hands had always been rather soft, running through smooth air and silky water. But, there was something endearing about how much work these hands had done.

Zuko jerked his hand away when he felt a particularly unfamiliar sensation: Aang’s lips pressing against his palm. Though he was panicking and bright red beneath his mask, he simply pulled his gloved back on, folding his hands in his lap. He couldn’t see Aang’s disappointed frown past the porcelain blocking his peripheral vision, but he knew it was there. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

Aang looked away, sighing softly. He had his suspicions that’s how he’d react, so he couldn’t be too disappointed. The Blue spirit didn’t seem like he’d ever experienced any true affection. He didn’t know how to react to it. It was… sad. The way he stiffened up, how quickly he had pulled back, the Avatar could practically _see _the paranoid expression below his mask.__

“Hey,” he murmured, turning to face him. He knew he was more awkwardly panicked than he was rejecting him. It was something in his stance, or maybe it was just a hunch. “Look at me.”

“You’re going to regret whatever you’re trying to accomplish. Just stop.”

“No, come on…” he took both of Zuko’s hands, forcing him to look at him. “You’re not as bad as you think you are. I know you aren’t…”

“And you aren’t as wise as you think you are.” he pushed himself up, turning on his heel before beginning to walk away. “Get back to your friends.” With a flick of his wrist, the fire extinguished itself, leaving Aang in the dark, alone.

☄

“You have been awfully quiet today, nephew.”

As Zuko gathered empty cups from the tables strewn about The Jasmine Dragon, he didn’t look back to his uncle as he spoke. He merely shrugged, holding the tray of mugs on his hip as he wiped them down, ignoring Iroh’s eyes boring into his back as he worked. “I’m always quiet, Uncle.”

“There are types of silence, dear boy. You carry a calm silence, since we got here. Today… you carry an anxious silence. The type of silence I recall whenever you are with family,” Iroh tutted, shaking his head.

“You’re family, Uncle.”

“You know what I mean, _Li. _Is something troubling you?” Iroh’s tone was so sincere, it almost reminded him of Aang’s voice the evening before. Zuko’s fingers tightened around the rag he was holding, though the Prince only shook his head.__

“Something is always troubling me,” he pointed out, closing his eyes and letting out a breath of faint smoke.

“You never breathe like that when you are calm, Nephew. Do you need a cup of tea?”

“I need a nap,” he answered, shaking his head as he finished closing the shop.

“Well, lucky for you, it’s time to sleep. Get going, get some rest. Do some breathing, and you will feel better in the morning.

“Yes, Uncle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind comments on the last chapter! Even if they don't mean much to you, they keep me going.


	4. Smiles in the Light of the Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moooore plot advancing fillerrrrrr!

Food this nice was a rare luxury in Zuko’s life in Ba Sing Se. As he carefully manipulated the flames to cook the meat Aang had brought tonight, he couldn’t help but remember that he used to eat much better than this. He used to have a feast every night, and he was given whatever he pleased. Though his time in the Fire Nation hadn’t been pleasant since his mother disappeared, there were small delights he missed greatly, including the divine food. Ba Sing Se seemed to have quite the aversion to spice, a feckless issue he so often complained about. He’d even mentioned it once or twice to Aang once he had revealed his heritage, leading to the airbender bringing a small jar of chili paste along with the market meat. It was a lot more touching than it should have been. It was such an insignificant little detail about his life, but with how desperately Aang clung to every single triviality Zuko revealed, it really shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was.

As the Blue Spirit carefully roasted the meat (of which, he had no clue of the origin, not that he cared), he deliberately ignored Aang’s stare that seemed to be carving into his soul. He hadn’t spoken tonight, much to the other’s chagrin, despite the myriad of questions thrown his way. He knew why, but he didn’t want to just sit down and accept the distaste.

The prince pulled the spit off of the fire, pushing the cubes of food onto a lotus leaf to keep it from the dirt. Aang kept quiet, watching him dip his food in the chili paste and lifting his mask to eat it. With the mask higher up to expose his mouth, his eyes were entirely obscured, so he couldn’t see Aang’s fond smile at the action.

“Spicy enough for you?” he asked, slyly moving around to sit closer to him. Zuko laughed softly, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Good enough…” He murmured. Aang tilted his head, entirely captivated by his smile. He leaned to rest on the other’s shoulder, waiting for him to finish. He’d grown to recognize and enjoy the Spirit’s distinct scent, smoke and jasmine flowers mixed with the dirt of the Earth Kingdom. He was sure that the dirt used to be the overpowering scent of incense and fire flakes, and he sort of wondered if it would ever return, when the Fire Nation was safe again.

It gave him another reason to defeat Ozai.

He smiled as he felt the Blue Spirit lean back into him, wriggling some to get comfortable. “Would… would you ever go back to the Fire Nation?” He asked quietly,

Zuko frowned, shrugging. “Depends if you kill the right people.” he knew Aang was uncomfortable with the idea of killing him and his family, but it was an honest answer.

“Ozai?” he asked, looking away.

“And Azula,” he added quickly, leaning back on his free hand.

“And what about Prince Zuko?”

He felt the Blue Spirit go rigid under his touch, quickly wondering what the difference was between him and the rest of the Fire Nation’s royal family. “I don’t have a ton of interactions with Ozai and Azula. Not like I’ve got many with Zuko, either,” _oh, you have no idea. _“But they’re all always trying to kill me. Zuko more often.”__

“Zuko’s got a better reason, I guess.” the two sat in tense silence for a few moments, finishing up the food. The prince pulled his mask back down, to the airbender’s disappointment.

“Were you…” He began, “Friends with him? Zuko, I mean.”

“You could say that,” he muttered, coughing awkwardly as he looked away.

“I wanna know him better. He’s a terrible guy, but I don’t… I don’t think it’s his fault. I think I’d be a bad guy if I grew up like him.”

“He’s terrible because he is,” he corrected, pulling away from Aang. he turned to face away from the Avatar. Aang frowned, pulling back to stare at the Bandit.

“What did I say? Did I say something wrong?” there was no answer. Aang smoothly pushed himself to stand (with the aid of a little airbending), walking around to get in front of him. He squatted down to his level, watching him for a few moments. Even through the small openings of the mask’s eyes, he could see the glint of tears, but only in the right eye.

Carefully, he reached to grab the edge of the mask by his jaw, waiting for the Blue Spirit to quickly bat his hand away. But, it didn't come. He carefully lifted it up, just to where he had it earlier, just below his nose. Quickly, before he could stop him, he gently grabbed his cheeks and leaned in to press his lips against the other’s.

Zuko completely froze up, gasping quietly. In his shock, he didn’t even notice Aang’s thumb swipe over the bottom of his scar.

Aang got it, then. All the fragmented bits and pieces of his personality fell into place when he considered that the boy under the mask was the exiled Fire Prince.

And oddly, he felt no urge to pull away in disgust when he realized it.

Instead, he waited until Zuko relaxed into the kiss, slightly leaning up into it. Aang chuckled softly, smiling into the prince before pulling away to stand up. He would have pushed the mask back down, if not for the lovably dazed look on Zuko’s face.

“Don’t get into too much trouble, Blue,” he hummed, turning to walk off into the night.


	5. Broken Trust

To know what Zuko did in the Crystal Caverns had made Aang see white. He realized that this, this was one of the few times he was feeling true rage. Seething, white-hot rage. Anger that would probably be great for firebending. To watch the prince sit up there with his father and sister was terrible. To think that was the boy he’d spent months kissing by a campfire…

So, when the prince showed up at the temple, practically begging for forgiveness, the Avatar was more than just a tad angry. No one really knew why. Aang didn’t _get _angry. He got disappointed, sure, but he was always calm and understanding, always willing to consider options. No one understood the angry tears they saw now.__

All those times that Zuko has said something like, “you’re going to regret doing this”, “you won’t like what you see”, he got it now. He should have listened to him and left him in the dust like he’d done to them.

But, the next day, when the Prince came back to save them— to risk his life for them, Aang couldn’t help but think back to when he was just the boy behind the mask. It was all so familiar, and so disgustingly nostalgic. He hated that he felt that same pure, admiring affection towards him.

He tried to stay composed when the fight was over, as Zuko approached the four of them. He took a breath, letting out a strong sigh. “I… can’t believe I’m saying this, but… thank you, Zuko.”

“Look, I know I didn’t express myself very well yesterday…” _By Spirits, he didn’t. Aang missed the easy conversations they could have separated by the guise of the Blue Spirit. _“I’ve been through a lot in the past few years. A-and… it’s been hard. But… I’m realizing, that I had to go through all those things to learn the truth.” Aang looked away, folding his arms and looking down. “I thought… I had lost my honour, and that somehow my father could return it to me. But I figured out, no one can _give _you your honor. It’s something you earn yourself.____

“All I want now, is to play my part in ending this war..”

Aang felt a sudden stab of guilt, palpable as a sword being thrust into his side. He watched as the prince turned to Toph, giving her a proper bow and apology. “I know I need to be more careful to control my bending. I don’t want to hurt people unintentionally. It’s… an issue, when it’s been repressed for so long.” Aang remembered those breaths of smoke, the rogue flames rushing up his arms. He supposed, in Ba Sing Se, he had no choice but to suppress it. Being a wanted man in two countries would be… depressing.

“I know. And… I know there’s good somewhere in you. I think you would be a good firebending teacher. But… I don’t know if I can trust you.” He balled his hands into fists, letting out a calming breath. “You’re on thin, _thin _ice. Don’t break it.”__

As the others walked away, he assumed he had to take that as a reluctant agreement.

After being led to his temporary room while they were here, Zuko began carefully unpacking his things. He put his mat down on the floor, kneeling down to empty his bag. As he opened it, he pulled out the biggest thing there: a portrait of his uncle. He stared at it for a moment, a saddened smile tugging up at his lips.

He thought for a moment, closing his eyes. The mistake he had made was immeasurable. He lost so much, just for having a split second decision to go home. He missed his Uncle.

When he opened his eyes, there was a figure at his door. He frowned, looking over to see Katara, as angry as always when it came to the Prince. He stood up, opening his mouth to speak, but she didn’t let him.

“You might have everyone else here buying your ‘transformation’, but you and I both know you’ve struggled with doing the right thing in the past.” Venmo was practically dripping from her voice. He backed up as Katara entered his room, her stance angry and rigid. “So let me tell you something right now. You make _one _step backward, _one _slip-up, give me _one _reason to think you might hurt Aang… you won’t have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I’ll make sure your destiny ends right then and there...permanently.”______

Zuko had received a lot of threats over the years, but not many sent shivers down his spine like this one. Maybe it was because he knew it wasn’t empty. Katara was a very real threat, and he knew she wouldn’t hesitate to end his life. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything as she turned to leave, slamming the door behind her.

☄️

Zuko didn’t join the others for lunch, or for dinner. He sat alone in his room, making a cup of tea with nothing but his own flame. He did his best to remember what his Uncle had taught him about this specific tea, feeling it was the least he could do to make it perfect. He leaned back on his feet, sipping at the beverage. It wasn’t as good as when Uncle made it. He thought that it may be in his fire. It was weak and flat, his own lackluster attitude unable to make it any bigger.

He nearly spilled it on himself when he noticed Aang in his doorframe, gasping and fumbling to get a grip on the mug. “Avatar,” he choked out, wiping his mouth. “Hello.”

He was given no ‘sorry’, no ‘hello.’ Just...

“You’ve got a lot of nerve turning up here after what you did,” Aang hissed, hating himself for the guilty frowned that split across Zuko’s face.

“I… I know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think you do, Zuko,” he muttered, shifting his weight. “I trusted you. And you broke that.”

Zuko’s face contorted in confusion, his brows furrowing. “Since when? I’ve never done anything that warrants your trust.”

“I knew, Zuko.” The confused visage didn’t melt away. He shook his head, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I trusted the Blue Spirit.”

His eyes widened as the puzzle pieces fell into place. Zuko reddened quite a bit, looking away to rub his arm. “How long did you know?”

“Since I went out of my way to get your dumb face some chili paste.”

The Prince’s confusion didn’t leave. “ _That _? Why the hell did you stay, then? You knew longer than you didn’t. You knew I was going to—“__

“Because I finally got to know you. As much as you tried to keep things secret, I got to _know _you. I fell in love with you, you idiot!”__

Overwhelming guilt painted Zuko’s features. The Avatar watched him deflate, and he could safely cement that the prince regretted betraying his trust. “Aang, I…” but he couldn’t bring himself to say any more. “I’m so sorry.”

He could hear that telltale wobble in his voice that preceded the prince’s tears. Tears that only came out of one eye, the one untouched by flame. Aang couldn’t help but break his stern façade, quickly moving to kneel beside him. It was second nature to reach up to his right eye, gently wiping away the tears. He couldn’t help but be pleased that the prince still didn’t flinch away from his touch, even when they hadn’t been in contact for so long. In fact, he leaned into the hand, letting a few tears slip from his eyes.

“Zuko, I don’t hold grudges, and you know that. But I need you to understand the severity of how bad you messed up.”

“I know. I know I messed up. I lost you, I lost Uncle… and I…” his breath hitched a bit. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

Aang pressed a kiss to the top of his head, so soft and sweet that you’d never know of the fallout between the two estranged lovers. “I know you are,” he whispered. “Do better, Zuko.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Good. Now.. let’s go get you some real food, you get grumpy and smoky when you’re hungry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hate me yet?


	6. Green Demon

When Katara heard Aang cry out in the night, and neither he nor Zuko were in their sleeping bags, she assumed the worst. She scrambled to stand, rushing to where the sound had come from. She assumed it was only a matter of time before Zuko messed up. At least he hadn’t given her any time to trust him, no time to get her hopes up. She saw the glow of a plume of fire, and she sped up.

However, when she heard laughter follow it, she had to pause. She continued, though stopped as soon as she could see the two. Aang has the prince pinned on the ground, and they were still giggling like mad.

“Oh, you bastard,” Zuko cackled, not making any particular effort to get the Avatar off of him.

“Shut up, you aren’t even trying!” Aang responded, sitting up on his abdomen. Katara didn’t think she’d ever seen Zuko laugh, or be in any way happy and comfortable. Not like he was now, letting his arms down in defeat as he was pinned.

“I’m not _supposed _to be trying, you idiot. I’m supposed to be teaching you—“__

“That’s _boring _! We’ve been working all day, for Yangchen’s sake!” Aang folded his arms, pouting. “Just take a break, man.”__

“If we take a break, will you let me up?”

“Yessir.”

Zuko groaned, rolling his eyes and beginning to sit up. Aang grinned, and as promised, he let him, scrambling to get up. “See, was that so hard?” He asked, quickly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips.

Katara quickly turned away, returning to bed.

☄️

“What’d you do?” Katara asked, shaking the Prince from what had seemed to be fairly deep meditation. Zuko jumped, looking over to his doorframe. He placed a hand on his chest, exhaling deeply.

“Agni, do any of you people knock?” He muttered, calming himself back down. “Repeat that?”

“What did you do to make him trust you so much? So quickly? What kind of mind game are you playing?”

“I’m… not playing anything. That’s my sister’s thing.” That was, apparently, not a satisfactory answer. “I didn’t do anything, Katara. I just apologized. He came in, I said sorry, and that was that.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me. I know there is, you can stop pretending there isn’t.” Katara narrowed her eyes.

“There _really isn’t. _I apologized. He fed me. That was it. I swear.”__

“Apologizing doesn’t get him to _kiss you _.”__

Zuko was silent for a few seconds, unfolding his legs to pull his knees to his chest. He rested the good side of his face on his knees, looking at Katara. “So, you’re the peeping Tom type?” He asked, his tone losing any defensive edge it had, taking on a much more pointed sound. He took some satisfaction in the way Katara reddened, folding her arms.

“I heard him scream. I assumed you were trying to murder him.”

“We were just wrestling. It isn’t that big of a deal. If you stuck around long enough to see him kiss me, you stuck around long enough to see that I wasn’t doing anything. He was the one pinning me to the ground.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“No, and I don’t really want to. I don’t understand why it’s a big deal for you. What, are you jealous?”

The way Katara looked away, holding herself and shrinking, told Zuko the answer. He couldn’t help but grin some.

“Katara, you don’t know much about me past being the enemy. Consider that: that you don’t know me. And there are things you don’t know about Aang. I know you like to think you know everything about him. But he does have a life outside of you and your brother.” He sat up, leaning back on his hands. “You’re not his mother. If he feels he can trust me, he’s free to do that.”

Katara scoffed, looking up. “But I _don’t _trust you. And I’m not keen on letting you manipulate him.”__

“There’s something you don’t get, Katara. If I hadn’t changed, you’d all be dead.”

☄️

“Sometimes, I worry she’s going to come and drown you in your sleep. Feels better if I’m here.”

“I think you’re just looking for an excuse to sleep with me,” Zuko reasoned, letting Aang snuggle up into his side. With the heat he exuded, he was a pretty comfortable pillow. “But, I don’t doubt she’d do it.” He pulled his blanket into a ball, using it to rest his head on.

“Maybe,” the Avatar giggled, hugging into him tightly. “And you’re warm. Really, _really _warm.”__

“No shit,” zuko chuckled, kissing the top of his head, just where the tip of his tattoo ended. They laid in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Aang just listening to the Prince’s rapid heartbeat. It never seemed to slow, even when they slept. It was vaguely worrying, and Aang often found himself just listening to make sure it didn’t get any faster.

“You’ve really gotten soft in just a week,” Aang remarked. “What’s up?”

“I’m not really as worried. Keeping up two false identities was stressful.” Aang pushed himself up, his brows knitting together.

“Wait, what do you mean, two?” He asked, tilting his head. Zuko cocked his brow, looking up to him.

“I can’t exactly just parade around as the fire prince in Ba Sing Se. I helped Uncle open a tea shop under a different name. I couldn’t bend at all, which was… harder than I thought it would be. It’s why I was so eager to do it around you. It felt terrible. All the fire had to stay inside, and it made me so jittery. I couldn’t sit still and hardly slept. Even when I was out there with you, I’d spend a lot of the nights pacing or practicing with my swords. I just needed to move. Do something. I don’t know. It’s probably why I’m so relaxed now.”

Aang frowned, gently taking the prince’s hand to squeeze. “That sounds miserable. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” It was for the better, Aang supposed, better that than in jail— or worse, sent back to Azula.

“It was. But I’m fine. It forced me to meditate more than usual, practice my breathing. I was just… really agitated. I think it might have been a factor in… uhm, why I did what I did.” He looked away at the mention of his betrayal, but it only made Aang give him a heart melting smile. He pushed back Zuko’s hair, kissing the edge of his scar.

“Well, you can bend as much as you want now. Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m soft.


	7. Epilogue

Neither Aang or Zuko were in good condition after their fights with their respective members of the royal family. The prince had gotten word that Aang, with his father (alive, much to his distaste) were on their way, but the newly un-banished staff didn’t want to wait that long for his coronation. It was disappointing, he really wanted (more like needed) Aang there with him.

So, needless to say, the soon-to-be Fire Lord wasn’t too perky. He wasn’t angry, not agitated, just… sad. Quiet. His smiles weren’t quite genuine. He was terrified, as it seemed just about every country wanted him dead. But, he’d be fine. He was sure he’d be.

Over his bandages, he carefully pulled on the heavy robes of the Fire Lord. Whereas in preparation for his sister’s coronation, in which she required constant pampering, Zuko requested to be left alone to get ready. Though he was sore enough that it was painful to dress, he didn’t want any sort of relation to his sister. He groaned as he pulled the first layer, gritting his teeth.

“You need some help with that?” Came a voice from behind him. He frowned when he recognizes that voice, turning around to face its owner; his first love, and definitely first heartbreak.

“Mai,” He greeted formally, stiffly. “How did you get out of the Boiling Rock, if I may ask?” He mumbled, tying together his robe.

“My uncle pulled some strings,” she shrugged, the same disinterest in her voice as always. “And… it helps when your boyfriend is the new Fire Lord.” Zuko raises his brow, taking a step back.

“Mai, I thought we had both made it very clear that we’re over.” He flinched when her face fell, hating that moment he knew he broke her heart again. He’d done his best to get back to her in his brief stint of reinstatement, he’d made an effort, but… he felt nothing for her. Not anymore.

“...What?” Mai asked softly, folding her arms.

“Mai…” he shook his head, looking away. “I'm beyond grateful for what you did at the Boiling Rock. But—” he sighed, waving it away. “I'm sorry. Please… leave me for now.”

He was happy to see, at least, that, she didn't argue. She just nodded, almost… understanding, turning on her heel to do as she was asked. Zuko felt terrible, but… things were different now.

He sat back down, continuing to dress himself. He did his best to cover the lichtenberg figures that decorated his chest now, flinching as he did. He eventually got all the heavy silk all tied and in place, his hair tied up, and on his way out.mhe held on to the side of the wall as he made his way to the front, though he had to stop with the biggest smile when he saw the Avatar standing at the exit.

“Aang,” he greeted softly, leading to the other whipping around with a grin.

“Zuko!” He chirped, rushing to give him a tackling hug. The prince groaned at the pain that followed, but hugged back anyways. “I missed you!”

After noticing the pain that he had caused, he lightened up his grip, getting on his toes to pepper several gentle kisses all over his face. They both erupted into laughter, the prince bending his legs slightly so Aang could reach.

“Look at you, all professional looking,” the Avatar hummed, taking his hands. “I'm sorry I was late.”

“Hey, it’s fine. I tried to get them to postpone it, I'm just glad you made it.”

Aang chuckled, placing a final kiss on his cheek. “Let's get you out there, _O mighty Fire Lord. _”__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really thank you all for the kind words, encouragement and reads for this. Throughout this story circus training has been kicking my ass, and typing is kind of hard with how sore my arms are. So, I'm sorry it wasn't long (I try to hit 15 chapters with at least 1k words per chapter normally) and it hasn't been beta read but thanks for making this account's first OTW fun.


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